all of them through Val. He’d forged that path to save her, but now all of them could see what had been done to her. The puppet tearing into her flesh with savage teeth. The noises of him gulping her blood. The burn of Vadim’s blood as he forced it into her—the horror and terror of taking the vampire’s blood.
At night, in her sleep, if she dared to sleep, the vampire came to her and whispered demands. He wanted her to kill her sisters and brother. To kill Tariq. He told her how to kill him. He told her what he would do to her if she didn’t obey him. It was no wonder the child looked so haunted. More, if he whispered those commands to Liv, what was he demanding of Emeline? The trauma had taken its toll on Liv. She planned to end her life if Tariq wouldn’t convert her. She was convinced she would eventually go crazy and hurt her family.
I will never let that happen, sielamet. She is watched day and night.
You have to convert her. Like this. With everyone helping. This is why Emeline wanted her here, so she could see and feel how it is done. There was no other explanation. Emeline could see into the future through her dreams. If she wanted Liv there, it was for a singular purpose—she needed to be converted, and Emeline didn’t want her to be afraid.
Tariq was such a good man. There was no ego—and that, she decided, was what made him such a good choice for a husband and father. He didn’t care who was credited for what. He didn’t have to be a hero, and that made him one in her eyes. He allowed three ancients inside her, moving through her body, and more, her mind, in order to bring her peace. To remove a threat to her. She loved him all the more for that.
Through Charlotte, all those present felt Vadim’s cunning hatred of all Carpathians, but in particular of the prince and his family. He cared nothing about women or children, only about what use they could be to him. She caught flashes of him ripping through several people, drinking blood, splashing it around and shoving them off a ship. She knew the others did as well. Nothing was sacred to him. Nothing at all and yet . . . his entire focus was on the Asenguard compound. There was something there he wanted and he would sacrifice every one of his soldiers, his pawns, his massive army to get it.
Charlotte felt another blast of pain as the splinter buried in her rib changed tactics. Now that her rib was broken, the thing had more wiggle room. It swayed from side to side under the terrible, relentless blast of white-hot energy. She forced herself to lie as relaxed as possible, drawing strength from Tariq’s arms while the splinter attacked her. It was an attack, nothing less. Vadim wanted to force her to stop them. She was just as determined the vampire wouldn’t get what he wanted.
I’m in love with you, Tariq. She needed to tell him and now seemed a good time. Her body hurt like hell, and she knew his did as well. He felt far more pain than she did and she figured letting him know what he meant to her was a good way to tell him thank you.
Tariq’s arms tightened and he buried his face in the nape of her neck. More than life, Charlotte. The very air I breathe. You are fél ku kuuluaak sívam belső, my beloved. You are also truly and literally hän ku vigyáz sívamet és sielamet, keeper of my heart and soul.
When he spoke in his language, in that beautiful, mesmerizing voice she loved, the one that felt like love, the splinter went very still, as if it were paralyzed. Instantly the three ancients struck hard, blasting it with energy and the white-hot light. Charlotte felt that terrible flash, the burn along her broken rib. She took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to ride on top of the wave of pain.
The splinter couldn’t escape the light pouring over it, through it. Her rib felt as if someone were taking a torch to it, and she knew Tariq was shouldering most of that pain as well, shielding her as he would from every other terrible thing that came her way. Just as he would shield their children.